Ugly Curtains
by yousillymuggle
Summary: Wolfstar one-shot, set after Hogwarts, in their first apartment. When Remus buys a pair of ugly, second-hand curtains, Sirius is not amused. Chaos ensures. Warnings: Very strong language and mentions of sex.


**A/N:**___This is my first wolfstar one-shot, so please don't judge too much when reading._

_Contains rather awful language, swear words are used quite often. Set after Hogwarts, during the First Wizarding War. _

"Fuck you!"

It always started at the table, Remus thought to himself.

Must be something with those god-awful chairs that they picked up in a muggle charity shop. Or it could be the fact that when sitting at the table, you had a clear view of the kitchen window.

Sirius hated, absolutely _despised_ looking out of windows nowadays.

Maybe it was because when he saw the outside world, he was reminded that out there, right outside their kitchen window, there was a war going on.

Or maybe it was because the window was framed with the world's most ugly curtains. Red and white checked pattern, with a trace trimming.

Bought from the old lady living in the flat below them. She was old and desperate and Remus was lazy and poor.

Remus estimated that they made shortly before Queen Victoria's reign.

"What the hell was I thinking", was Remus's first thought, every time he saw the horrors. Reminding him of his poor taste in decor and style. Never failing to piss him off greatly.

"Those curtains are fucking horrendous".

No-fucking-shit-Sirius.

"I was being nice", Remus persistently told him.

Couldn't just eat their takeaway in peace, could they. No, there always had to be some kind of drama going on. The perks of living with Sirius Black.

"She's old and I had a fiver. After what she saw in the community laundry room, I think we still kind of owe her".

Sirius just stood there, taking a drag of his cigarette.

His eyebrows were practically reaching his hairline. You could feel the condescension radiating off him. That bloody leather jacket was beginning to smell like superiority. Remus didn't even know that was possible until now.

"So because some poor old hag, who's bound to kick the bucket any day now, offered you some second-hand, worn-out curtains, you felt compelled to say yes? Completely lost your ability to say a simple word? _No_. It's one fucking syllable Remus".

Fuck you Sirius Black.

Fuck you and your leather jacket that smells like cigarettes and Firewhiskey.

Fuck you and your motorcycle, that's bound to get you killed one of these days.

Fuck you and your shiny black hair that always sits so bloody perfectly.

That was so awfully distracting at the present moment.

"Fuck you!" Remus hissed out. He didn't shout because he knew the people, upstairs and down, would hear him if he did.

The single mother with the four kids upstairs had already shouted at them for making too much noise, not long before the purchase of the unsightly curtains.

Poor kids, scarred for life.

Who knew the sounds of two men getting off, were so terrifying to a ten-year old, eight-year old twins, a six –month old baby and their single (slightly slutty) mother?

"Fuck you? It wasn't me who bought the monsters in the first place, you idiot!"

Sirius Black did not hiss. He did not whisper. He shouted at the top of his fucking lungs because he really did hate the woman upstairs and the pensioner downstairs was responsible for creating this whole mess in the first place.

"Keep your voice down, Sirius, they'll hear" Remus managed to angrily whisper.

"I don't care if they bloody hear!" Sirius furiously hissed back.

"In fact, I hope the whole fucking building hears, so that no-one else falls for that old bitch's guilt trip like you did!"

Remus didn't know whether to storm out or punch him in the face.

Lately, things had been tense between Sirius and himself. They hadn't had a proper shag in weeks and with the war going on, both were always too tired to even start a conversation. But that wasn't a good enough excuse for Sirius to act like a dickhead. Yes, he was under pressure but weren't they all?

Eventually, Remus decided on the face.

"Ow, what the fuck was that for?" Sirius moaned while nursing his red cheek.

"You broke the bloody chair in your fucking rage, and hit me in the shins in the process!" Remus snarled out.

Both men stared at each other from opposite sides of the wooden table.

Poor table only had three seats now, instead of its original four.

'Peter can sit on the sofa', Sirius concluded in his head. 'Won't be such a bad thing. Bloke always did prefer sitting slouched down, food spread out across his lap'.

Sirius stared at Remus for a while longer.

With constantly working for the Order and trying to find time for things like eating and sleeping, they hadn't had a proper conversation in weeks. Let alone telling each other how much their other half meant to them.

Sirius instantly felt guilty.

Despite the dark circles underneath his eyes, Remus still looked absolutely gorgeous. His light brown hair stuck slightly to his forehead, with the sweat from their fight still slightly present on him. He was wearing dark jeans and that grey jumper Sirius loved so much. His navy and white stripy socks made Sirius want to laugh, because they were just so _Remus_. And although a few faint scars were visible, Remus's face was so bloody beautiful.

Why they had been fighting, Sirius couldn't remember.

"I love you Moony, I really do", Sirius said with a cheeky grin on his face.

"I love you too Padfoot", Remus replied, a faint blush on his face, hidden behind his wide smile.

"Why did we start fighting anyway?" Sirius questioned a few hours later. They were lying side by side in bed, only the dim light shining in from the evening sky, making their faces slightly visible.

Covered in sweat and completely exhausted, Sirius wondered how he could ever fight with his Remus, when he looked as wonderful as he did.

"I can't recall how the argument started", Remus answered him. "Something about curtains and the old bat that lives downstairs, in apartment B3".

"They really are fucking awful Remus", Sirius said grinning.

"Fuck you Padfoot".

_Yes, it's a bit terrible. But I have nothing better to do on a Friday night and I really do love these two together. This short story is set in London, 1979-1980. Which either date you prefer, I couldn't decide. _


End file.
